Where We Are
1 Corinthians 9:16-23
If I proclaim the gospel, this gives me no ground for boasting, for an obligation is laid on me, and woe betide me if I do not proclaim the gospel! For if I do this of my own will, I have a reward; but if not of my own will, I am entrusted with a commission. What then is my reward? Just this: that in my proclamation I may make the gospel free of charge, so as not to make full use of my rights in the gospel.
For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win more of them. To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I might win those under the law. To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law) so that I might win those outside the law. To the weak I became weak, so that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, so that I might by any means save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings.
My first read of this passage was a pretty cynical, jaded one—and I’m not alone in this— at Bible study this week, a couple other folks at the same kneejerk reaction. A surface read of this would, indeed make one think that Paul is being conniving, manipulative, a chameleon—saying that he goes from group to group evangelizing, pretending to be one of them to blend in and convince them to join him and this new faith movement—to the Jews, he becomes like a Jew, to the gentiles, a like a gentile, to the weak, he becomes weak. It can definitely read as disingenuous, and rather… icky, for lack of a better word. It would be easy to think of Paul an amoral conman, someone like disgraced congressman George Santos, and opportunist who will lie and pretend and fake it, who will say or do anything, in order to make a name for himself.
But let’s take a breath here, Paul-haters. Let’s look at the context, let’s look at what Paul really means here—so this letter to some of the newest Christ-followers of the city of Corinth was written because Paul had heard through the grapevine that things weren’t going super well. He had heard that they were creating the types of hierarchies that Christ was against, they were claiming some people among them had better, more valuable gifts than others, and they were bullying and subjugating the members of their community whom they saw as less valuable; they were creating a system not dissimilar from the broken and oppressive Roman system under which they lived.
And the key to look for in this passage, I think, the thing that really stuck out to me is this—Paul says to Jews he became like a Jew. To those under the law, he became like one under the law; same with those outside, like someone outside the law. But to the weak—he became weak. Weak here doesn’t just mean the opposite of strong. In this context, it’s synonymous with the poor, the lower rungs of society, the oppressed.
Remember that Christ always stands alongside the weak, the oppressed; remember the meek will inherit the earth—and you might remember from a sermon a few weeks ago from Paul’s letter to the xxxxx that Paul had given up his high and noble status in life to become a lowly tent-builder, a manual laborer, to fund his evangelizing for Christ. Paul did this because he was actually walking the walk. He did this because to be a true follower of Christ, we have to understand, or at the very, very least, make an effort to understand those who have it worse than us, those who have different experiences than us.
So Paul isn’t telling us we have to lie, or not be authentic selves in order to spread the word of Christ or be Christlike—he’s telling us we have to make a real effort to understand one another; he’s telling us we have to be open-minded and accommodating when meeting people different than us. For instance, despite all of Paul’s very intense beliefs about what it means to followed Jesus, he never forced Jews to stop studying the Torah or the law. He never called on them to renounce their previous teachings. So Paul is really all about meeting people where they are in the moment, trying to connect to them by understanding them better, and not leaning completely on his own zealous beliefs.
So—a little heavy history about me… this is something I don’t talk about much, not just because it was a dark time in my life, but also because it was a long time ago at this point—but when I was 19 and 20, for about a year, I was in a horrible abusive relationship. And I’m going to skip forward to the end here and say that what I really credit for my being able to get out of that relationship was the support I had from my friends in college who essentially had an intervention with me one day after my boyfriend had left after an especially violent fight they had heard. They came to be with so much compassion and worry, and also fear, and that was it—I never saw the boyfriend again, and I was free. Now, fast-forward about seven years—I’m doing my chaplaincy residency in Philly at a level 1 trauma center. I was on-call on weekend, and a call came in—a young woman, probably a few years older than me, came in—domestic violence incident, she had been thrown down the stairs by her partner. She was mostly physically okay, and I stayed in the emergency department with her for a couple hours, just supporting her, praying with her, checking with her countless times, making sure she had a support system, she had people she could turn to. Well this was my chaplaincy residency, and so there’s training and work involved—I was this residency with four other chaplains in training, and once a month, we would choose a patient visit to discuss with one another, and I chose this one. When discussing it, my colleagues noticed that I had been hyper-focused on this woman’s support system, that I kept making sure she had family or friends to turn to. One of my colleagues, Jeffrey, who had also been in an abusive relationship with his partner said, “I had family and friends to years telling me to get out, and that’s not what ended up getting me out of the relationship.” Jeffrey wasn’t saying this to scold me or shame me, or make me feel guilty. He was saying this because I was so caught up in my own troubled history, and in my own experience, I wasn’t able to meet this woman where she was. I wasn’t able to take a step back and just see where she was at, where her feelings were, where she was in that very moment. I had this very self-centered tunnel vision—not malicious, of course—this tunnel vision that had me thinking, “This is the thing that worked for me, this is the thing that saved me, so it will save you too.” Realizing this was a deeply humbling moment for me, in the best possible way. It was truly a personal epiphany for me—how appropriate, it being the last Sunday of Epiphany—in which I realized how easily I could let me own trauma and history cloud my judgment and my ministry.
Now, I don’t think I did this woman any irreparable damage; I’m sure I was a kind, pastoral presence in that moment, at the very least—but I can’t imagine I did her a lot of good. I was so obliviously assuming that what would help me would help her, I couldn’t properly meet her where she was, and so I couldn’t properly connect with her.
In today’s passage, another reason this could be taken as a little cynical is Paul’s continued use of the word “win.” To us “win” has this connotation of competition, of winners vs. losers—but more generous and maybe better translation would strengthen. His goal was to strengthen those he met along his journey. His goal was not to beat anyone into submission, but meet them where they were, see what they were capable of believing, what they were capable of sacrificing and then go from there. With this in mind, I think back to that moment when I was in the medical bay with that woman. I think about if I hadn’t been so bogged down in my own history, how I could have met her where she was in that moment, and how I could have, not helped her—but strengthened her in some way. I wonder how I could have helped her express whatever feelings of fear, of grief she might have had, and I wonder if putting words to those feelings would have provided a little extra strength that in deeply frightening and vulnerable moment. Regardless, I still think about that day and I wonder what happened to her—I pray she was able to leave that relationship and that she’s now thriving.
Paul refers to himself as a “slave” to all, and slave is yet another word that I we can have a kneejerk reaction to—but as what happens so often with translation, slave in this context means something different than what we would normally think. It comes of the Greek doulos, which in this context means to devote one’s life to the well-being of others, in service to Christ. And there’s also an interesting contradiction here, because Paul is sure to explain that he is “free with respect to all,” and yet, he is still a slave. There’s a freedom in being able to connect with others so deeply, when you’re in service to something other than yourself. There’s a freedom in letting go of your own wants and needs in order to make a true effort to understand the motivations and struggles of others. I think, when we’re able to connect with others in this deep and meaningful way, our world becomes a little bigger, we’re no longer stuck in those dreaded echo chambers.
When we’re so stuck in our own heads, too focused on our own history and our own motives while talking with others, our worlds become cramped and small. That’s what’s so ironic, I think, about the fact that we now have so much information at our fingertips, and the ability to communicate with people across all walks of life thank to the internet and social media—in theory, it should make our world huge, it should make it so much easier to really connect with others, but it hasn’t… instead, we’ve made our worlds even smaller, hiding behind a computer screen of confirmation bias, finding information to fit the narrative we want, rather than information and connection to really help us to understand one another.
But when we take a step back from our curated media feeds, when we take a step back from our own troubles and anxieties and take a moment to really connect with someone, face to face, there’s a real freedom in letting go of our past and our own biases for a bit and really listening to someone else and doing our best to understand their struggles, and doing our best to understand where they’re coming from, why they’re hurting, what makes them tick, what makes them happy, what they’re looking for in life. There’s a real freedom to know that we’re doing this for something greater than us.
God sent Jesus to us, both human and divine, in vulnerable, mortal form—a deity who is truly connected to us, who truly understands every pain, every sorrow, every fear we’ve ever had and will ever have, the ultimate example of becoming weak to win, or strengthen the weak. Jesus came to lift up the lowly, and he did this by becoming one of them; by becoming one of us.
Now, I will never truly know the struggles of others—I especially, as a straight white woman, will never truly know the struggles of people of color, of queer and trans folks—but when I’m speaking with, connecting with someone who’s having a tough time, who needs support, who needs an advocate, I can listen, really actively listen to them and their feelings, listen for what they want, rather than think of what I would do in their situation, or what I did in a similar situation. “I have become all things to all people,” Paul says. That is how we connect with one another. That is how we can be as Christlike as is possible in this world that encourages rugged individualism, rather than putting yourself in someone else’s shoes, becoming one with someone else. We do the will of Christ by connecting with others by ridding ourselves of our own wants and our own ego and practicing real empathy. We do the will of Christ by understanding one another, by meeting people where they are and accepting and loving them where they are; and we then do the will of Christ by connection and working together, as one. Amen.
